chuuya and dazai fluff
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"But I hate swallowing pills," Dazai whined. He even stuck out his tongue in a display of protest.
Chuuya slapped his hand against his forehead. "I don’t care if you hate it. Take the damn pills."
Dazai crossed his arms, refusing to move.
Chuuya’s patience, already thin, snapped like a twig. "Dazai, I swear to god—"
Series
- Part 1 of chuuya and dazai fluff
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It started as a joke.
Actually, no. It started as boredom. And as everyone knew, Dazai plus boredom equaled a guaranteed catastrophe.
Dazai had been lounging on the couch at the Port Mafia headquarters, watching Chuuya pace back and forth, muttering under his breath about something or another. His fiery little partner was always so tense—so reactive. Like a poorly trained dog.
And that was when the idea hit him.
Series
- Part 2 of chuuya and dazai fluff
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When chuuya asked Dazai to do the dishes, he didn’t mean run himself to the dirt doing dishes
Or, Dazai would do anything for chuuya
Series
- Part 3 of chuuya and dazai fluff